Breaking
by peanutbutterer
Summary: The salt in the air mixes with the salt of her tears and it feels for a moment like she's drowning. [K/D tag to 5x01, Ascension.]


Deeks pushes his chair back. "Okay, he says," hands gripping the edge of the table, "I'm going to turn in."

Callen's laugh tapers off and he nods. "Night, man."

"Later, Deeks," adds Sam. "Get some rest."

Kensi slips out of the booth. "I'll take you home."

"I'm good, Kens. I may not be able to chew. Or drink. Or brush my teeth. Or… you get the picture. But I'm pretty confident in my ability to drive."

"Right," she says, "I know you can, I..." She thinks about him going out that door. She thinks about the moment it shuts behind him and exactly how her throat will tighten and her heart will drop. It's not rational, it's ridiculous, but she can't - she just can't let him out of her sight. Not yet.

"I want to," she insists, and she feels the eyes of Callen and Sam as they watch what goes unspoken between them, but she can't even begin to care.

Deeks nods. "Okay."

* * *

She pulls up to the curb in front of Deeks' apartment and cuts the engine.

"I'm not going to break," he says, his voice quiet but echoing in the silence.

"You didn't break."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." She pulls the keys out of the ignition and opens her door. "I'm going to walk you in."

"I don't need you to."

"Maybe not. But I do."

He nods and gets out of the car.

He finds his keys in his pocket and fumbles a moment with the lock, his fingers still a little shaky from the day. She digs her nails into her palms and tries to quell the ache to reach out and still them.

Monty bursts through the door the moment it cracks open and heads down the stairs, making a beeline for the nearest bush. He's barely finished relieving himself before he's running back to Deeks and pawing excitedly at his legs.

"Hey boy," Deeks says, "sorry about that."

Monty barks and pants, the offense seemingly forgotten upon arrival.

Deeks scratches Monty's head. "You forgive too easily. You could have milked that for a while."

Monty barks again.

"Thanks for the ride," Deeks says, looking back up at Kensi. He smiles a little, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

She takes a shaky breath. "You're not going to invite me in?"

"I was going to take this guy for a walk."

"Perfect," she says, "I'd love a walk."

"But I only have one leash."

Her heart flutters a little.

He grins.

* * *

Monty does his business before they've even made it through the park, but they continue on toward the beach anyway. She doesn't ask, he doesn't explain, but they keep walking and that's perfectly fine with her.

She listens to the waves crashing and tries to think about what she wants to say. She's never been great at speeches and she's terrible at feelings, but when she called him out on communication he stepped up to the plate and she feels like she's just spent a fair portion of the past twenty-four hours gaping like a fish. She wants it to be eloquent and she wants it to be right, but the more she thinks about it the less tangible the words become.

The breeze picks up a little and she wraps her arms around herself to ward off the chill.

"Want to go back?" Deeks asks, breaking a ten-minute silence so quietly that it takes her a second to register it.

She shakes her head. "I'm good."

"Want my hoodie?"

"You keep it."

"Are you treating me like an invalid?"

"Because I don't want your smelly hoodie?" She makes a face. "You've been sweating in that thing for hours."

He brings the collar up to his nose and sniffs it. "Smells delightful."

It probably does, she concedes. It's probably warm and soft and smells just like him. "Your nose must have been compromised."

He chuckles a little, but it's clear his heart isn't in it.

She sighs and gestures toward the shore. "Want to go sit for a while?"

"Okay."

They abandon the paved path and cross toward the water, finding a spot that's close but still far enough to be dry and plant themselves in the sand. Deeks lets Monty off the leash, but the dog just circles a few times before plopping down at his master's side, his head on his paws and his eyes on the ocean.

Kensi follows his gaze and watches as the water comes in and goes out below a darkened sky, wondering how to start - where to start. She needs him to know what she feels and what she's thinking but that's never going to happen if she keeps second-guessing herself. So she bites her lip and swallows her fear and abandons the need to perfectly articulate her thoughts.

"Deeks, I'm sorry."

He immediately shakes his head. "Kensi -"

"Just," she cuts him off, "just let me say this. I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner. I'm sorry I had to make you stay in that awful place." She swipes at a tear running down her cheek. She scolds herself for crying already and wonders how she'll make it through everything she wants, needs to say. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay with you.

"I wanted to be with you while you waited. I wanted to be with you in the hospital. I wanted so much to - to take everything away or to help ease it or anything, just _anything_. I wanted to do something but there was," her voice cracks and she sniffles.

She doesn't realize she's still swiping at tears until his hand comes to rest on her forearm. He pushes slightly until she drops it. His hand trails down the length of her arm until his fingers find hers. She holds on.

"There wasn't anything you could have done," he tells her and the worst part is she knows he believes it.

"I could have fought harder."

"You had a job to do. You did what you had to and you got it done."

She shakes her head. "What good is my job if I have to hurt my partner to do it?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Intellectually, yeah, I do, but Deeks - this, you..." She pulls her hand from his grasp and swipes again at her tears. She turns to face him, her knee resting against his thigh because she can't bear the thought of losing all contact but she needs to use her hands, needs to somehow physically make him see.

"I don't know how to handle this. I feel like I, I mean, I can't say that it broke me because, god, nothing happened to me but I feel broken and I feel -"

"You can be broken too, Kens."

"I can't, I won't. I'm not." She's angry now and desperate and, "Nothing happened to me, Deeks! I was on the sideline. You were captured, you were tortured and I," she swipes again and again. "God, I don't know where all these tears are coming from."

"It's okay." His eyes are still lifeless, his voice still soft. He's still the same shadow of himself - the one from the bullpen, the one from the bar, the one that's been here since he looked up at her from that horrible chair. He's still not Deeks and she's still not whole. She won't be - can't be - until he is.

"It's so far from okay," she argues. "Nothing is okay."

He's crying too. She looks in his eyes and realizes he's been crying too and she wonders for how long and she wonders how to make it stop.

"You can't go," she says as she brushes one of his tears with her thumb, her fingers returning to his cheek to trail gently across his wounds - as if somehow her touch could draw the pain from them, could do something to ease them. "You've got to unpack your things and come back, Deeks. Take a break, take a vacation, but don't go. You can't go. You can't leave the team. You can't leave…" She pauses, knowing the next word out of her mouth will confirm how much she needs him. He already knows, but saying it out loud makes it more real somehow. More permanent.

The old Deeks would have jumped in and cracked a joke. He would have made bearable for her what feels like an endlessly echoing silence. But the old Deeks isn't here to make things right. She opens her mouth to finish her thought, but nothing comes out. The salt in the air mixes with the salt of her tears and it feels for a moment like she's drowning.

"Me," she finishes, surprised her mouth accomplished what her mind couldn't seem to complete.

He cups her hand in his, stilling her fingers yet again. "But I don't know how to be me anymore, Kensi. And if I'm not me, how will I protect you?"

His voice cracks on the words and she can't swallow around the lump in her throat. "I'll help you. Let me help you."

"I don't know -"

She shakes her head. "You said I got you through the torture. I wasn't even there and I got you through. I'm going to be here now. I'll be with you, beside you. I'll help you get through what comes next. You're still in there and we'll find you. We will. Together."

She takes her hand off his cheek, grabbing his and pulling it with her. She clasps it with her other hand and holds it tightly in her lap. "I'm not leaving you and you're not leaving me. Okay?"

He looks at her, eyes wide and wet. He looks so vulnerable, so open. So completely unlike himself.

"Okay?" she asks again, afraid he'll say no. Terrified he'll walk away.

He hesitates a moment before nodding. "I'll try."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

She laughs - a stupid, tearful laugh and squeezes his hand. "I don't know why I'm laughing," she says, but she can't find a way to stop.

"Probably because we're sitting here crying at each other like a pair of idiots."

"Let's not tell the guys."

"God no. We'll never speak of this."

Monty barks at his master's command and Kensi laughs even more.

* * *

Deeks opens his door the next morning, eyes bleary and hair tousled. His voice is gravelly when he asks, "Kens?"

"I know you've got the day off, but I stopped to pick up drinks for everyone on the way to work and a soy latte just fell into the carrier, so..." She holds out a cup of coffee. "I didn't want it to go to waste."

He takes the cup. "Thanks."

She holds up a paper bag. "Also some frozen yogurt."

"Breakfast of champions."

"They sell it at the donut shop." She scrunches up her nose. "I figured it'd be better than a maple bar."

He takes the bag and she smiles.

"I'm going to come by after work. For dinner would you like a smoothie or a smoothie?"

He tilts his head to think about it. "A smoothie."

"A fine choice."

"It was hard to decide." He watches her curiously a moment before lifting the bag. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

He gestures toward her car. "You going to go to work or are you goin-"

She leans forward and presses her lips (gently) to his. It's brief and careful but her next breath fills her lungs for what feels like the first time in days.

When they part she grins at the completely baffled look on his face.

"I meant to do that earlier," she explains. "I just - I just didn't get the chance."

"Okay," he says, a smile creeping to the corners of his mouth.

"Plus, you mentioned last night about the not brushing your teeth thing."

"What makes you think I brushed them this morning?"

"Deeks, I've seen you rooting around in the bottom of a dumpster and I still fondly remember your time undercover as a homeless guy. I'm under no illusions about your personal hygiene."

"I think you just somehow analogized kissing me to garbage."

"On that note, I'll see you later."

"Don't come without a smoothie!"

* * *

She snaps a picture of his desk with her phone - his things all back in their rightful place. _I hope you don't mind_, says the accompanying text, _but I promised to help and I figured that was a good place to start_.

Two minutes later she gets his reply.

_That wasn't the start._


End file.
